Finding
by Aireon Maris
Summary: Spike comforts an ill Buffy. Sequel to "Planning." Third in the Spike and Buffy in Europe series.


Finding

Spike comforts an ill Buffy.

Sequel to "Planning." Third in the Spike and Buffy in Europe series.

"This is why I hate vampires," Buffy moaned. She was curled up into a ball of misery in her bunk, sweating and empty-stomached.

"And why's that, luv?" Spike asked, looking up from the book in his hands.

"You don't get seasick," she complained. Spike chuckled.

"Who'd have thought you'd be so queasy, eh? Don't worry. I hear it only lasts for the first few days."

"Great," Buffy muttered, clutching her midsection. "So I still have more to look forward to."

Spike put his book aside. With the single porthole in the cabin covered by a heavy curtain, only a portable lantern lit up the small space. Shadows dripped from his cheekbones and pooled around his deep-set eyes, giving him a strangely skeletal look. He reached over and placed his hand on Buffy's damp forehead.

She sighed in surprised pleasure. His hand, void of body heat, was comfortably cool against her feverish skin. The cool spread as he trailed his fingers down her cheek and across her throat. "That feels good," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

Spike smiled and continued to stroke her face. She had been violently ill since they hit open water, and if this could give her some relief, well it wasn't as if it was a chore. They'd be at least a week at sea so the sooner Buffy got her sea legs, the better. Until then, Spike really didn't mind keeping her company. Besides, daylight was hard to hide from on a boat.

"So what are we going to do when we get to Italy?" Buffy asked, opening her hazel-green eyes.

"Oh, you know. See the sights, taste the wine, enjoy the food. Mostly just relax," Spike replied. "We're getting away, remember?"

"Where are you getting the money to do this?"

Spike chuckled. "Well, after all I'd done, Angel, and therefore Wolfram & Hart, was very grateful. So don't worry about money, Pet. It won't be an issue."

She blinked a few times. "Oh. How—how is Angel? I mean, he's okay, isn't he?"

Spike couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy at her innocent question. But he also couldn't deny that Angel had been there first. But Angel had also left, leaving Spike to take care of Buffy. So Spike really shouldn't read too much into the query. "He's fine," Spike said, pressing the back of his hand to her throat. "The firm keeps him busy. He's doing a lot of reforms, you know. Weeding out the bad customers."

"That sounds like fun," Buffy said dryly. She closed her eyes again and turned her face toward his hand. "Don't stop. I think I might be feeling better."

They were silent for a long moment, and Spike enjoyed just sitting there, knowing that he was helping her. But there was a question that had been nagging him for the past several days, and since Buffy had nowhere to go…

"Why Greg?" he asked quietly. Buffy's eyes flew open.

"What?" she demanded weakly.

"Why did you stay with Greg?" he asked again.

She moaned faintly. "Do we have to talk about him?"

"Yes." Spike's voice was firm, though his expression was gentle. Buffy sighed and shifted around under her blanket, looking for a more comfortable position.

"He was nice at first," she said with sigh. "Nice and normal. He reminded me a little of Riley."

"Hmph," Spike interrupted at the mention of his least favorite of Buffy's former boyfriends. Buffy gave him a strange look and continued.

"I guess I was…vulnerable at the time. You know, losing my Slayer abilities. It was hard." She seemed unwilling to continue. Spike reached over and took her hand. He had a feeling that she needed to talk this through, to get it out of her system.

"Go on," he urged.

"It was a few weeks after I moved in with him that he…" she trailed off, not meeting Spike's gaze.

"That he hurt you," he finished. She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Before, I never would have let anyone hurt me like that," she whispered. "But I was nothing. Not a Slayer. Just a normal person, and I didn't—I couldn't fight back."

Spike tilted his head to get a better view of her face. "Because you thought you were weak and you needed someone stronger than you," he said. She nodded, still not looking at him. Spike touched her cheek gently.

"Listen to me, luv. You aren't weak. You'll never be weak. Just because you aren't the Slayer doesn't mean that you're not strong. You hear?"

Her hazel-green eyes finally darted up to meet his blue ones and she nodded once. "Thanks, Spike," she murmured.

"You're welcome, Pet. The sun's gone down, you know. You up for a stroll? Fresh air might do you good."

She considered the offer for a moment, and then pushed the blanket away. "That sounds nice. I'm feeling a lot better."

Out on the deck, a salty breeze stung their exposed skin as they leaned against the railing. Buffy could see the demon who owned the boat in the cockpit; he was a harmless fellow with a goofy grin and puppyish eyes. She looked up at the star-strewn sky and enjoyed her first time outdoors in days. She could even look at the heaving surface of the ocean without a similar reaction in her stomach.

"This is so cool," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. "I've never been on a boat like this before."

"This is how we came to America," Spike said. The wind ruffled his platinum hair, teasing it into soft curls around his face. "Darla, Dru, and I," he clarified. "Came over in a boat. Angel had already got his soul, then."

"Yeah. Angel once told me airplanes are a very unreliable method of transportation for a vampire," Buffy agreed. She suddenly bounced on her toes, clinging to the railing. "Oh, my God, I can't believe we're going to _Europe_! This is so exciting!"

Spike grinned back and slid his arm around her waist. "Yeah, it is. You, me, and the world at our feet. It can't get any better than this, luv."


End file.
